


A Heart for Newt

by orphan_account



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, M/M, Sexual Coercion, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 13:44:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2852906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Newt needs an intact vampire heart for research purposes, and will do anything to get it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Heart for Newt

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Pacific Rim Secret Santa.
> 
> Please mind the warning for coerced, not-really-consensual sex.

Newt was up to his elbows in a cadaver and trying really, really hard to focus on locating its spleen. It wasn't that dissecting vampire remains required a lot of concentration; to the contrary, he could do this in his sleep. The problem was that Marshal Pentecost was here to talk to Hermann, not Newt, even though Hermann's information was uncertain, mathematical, and _boring_. Every ounce of self-control Newt had (which was admittedly, well under a pound) went into keeping his mouth shut.

“And as you can see here...” Hermann droned on.

Newt shoved his arm a little further into the corpse, the entrails slick and cold, feeling slimy even through his gloves.

“Judging by this information, I predict that the next coordinated attack will be eight days from today,” Hermann said.

“A prediction?” Newt interrupted before he realized he had opened his mouth. The Marshal glanced over skeptically and Hermann's usual unpleasant facial expression deepened into a scowl. Well, might as well keep going at this point. “All you can ever give him is predictions and really, Marshal, I think you'd want to go in with more information than just that.”

“Predictions are not-”

“Shut up, Hermann, it's my turn to talk.” Newt turned to better address the Marshal, even going so far as to pull his arms out of the guts he'd been searching. “Knowing when the next attack is nothing more than a stop-gap. Hermann's information is useless if we don't know how to eliminate them for good.”

“The jaeger program-”

“The jaeger program's dying, dude!” Newt interrupted.

“Doctor Geiszler,” Pentecost said warningly.

“Look,” continued Newt hurriedly, holding his hands up defensively, “I'm the first to admit that superpowered vampire hunters are the coolest thing on Earth – and also the thing most vital to keeping us safe – but without knowing more about vampire physiology, we're never going to do the only thing that'll stop them permanently: find a cure.”

“That's impossible!” sneered Hermann.

“You know what –”

“Gentlemen!” Pentecost's voice boomed over theirs, silencing them. The two shot one last dirty look at each other before focusing their attention on the marshal. “Dr. Geiszler, what is it you need?”

“A vampire's heart. Intact, not stabbed and contaminated from wood and such. But nobody just has one of those lying around. Do you?”

“No, we don't. But I know who might.”

~~~

Newt's heart pounded in his chest as he knocked on the large wooden door, clutching his ultraviolet flashlight and ruined reference picture in the other hand. The weather was ominous, thunder rumbling in the distance, and he had long ago given up hope that any inch of his skin would remain dry.

“Come in,” a voice droned.

Newt was let in by a slimy-looking man who immediately tried to sell him a bunch of superstitious useless vampire-related junk. No, he didn't need bone powder, and certainly not for _that_ reason.

“Actually, I'm looking for Hannibal Chau,” Newt interrupted as the man reached for something else.

The man's demeanor changed the moment Chau's name was mentioned. “Hannibal Chau? Ah...”

He flipped a switch and the shelves to the left of Newt parted, revealing a dark stairway. Newt paused, looking down with ambivalence, but the man just gestured, offering a smile that was not in the least reassuring.

Screw it; Newt needed that heart.

“Alright, thanks.”

Descending the stairs, Newt found it wasn't quite as dark down here as it had looked, with dim incandescent bulbs scattered along the ceiling. The stairs rounded a bend and went down further; it felt like at least two flights, if not more, putting him solidly underground. As he neared the bottom, he felt himself shivering. He chalked it up to his rain-drenched clothes, but once he grasped the handle to the door at the bottom, he realized it was in fact, freezing down here.

He turned the icy handle and the door swung open, revealing what looked like a morgue. There were about half a dozen people examining cadavers, or parts of cadavers. Vampire cadavers, Newt concluded as he carefully walked in and glanced down at a skull in the final stages of polishing. Looking around, he was surprised by the number of specimens, but more importantly, one of the corpses they were just uncovering was completely free of blood.

Hurrying over, Newt saw as the woman pulled the fabric all the way off that the corpse looked oddly wet, but had no sign of the telltale stake wound in the chest.

“But, how the hell is that one so intact?!”

“Drown them in holy water.” One man, a head taller than the rest, surveyed Newt. He began walking towards Newt, shoes clinking with each step. Goggles obscured his eyes, and between the wrinkles and scars, he looked grizzled. There was no other good way to describe that. His broad shoulders were accentuated by his ostentatious coat, the luxurious embroidered material as dark and rich as drying blood.

Newt didn’t think he was that distracted by his staring, yet he still jumped when the man growled at him again.

“What do you want?”

“I'm looking for Hannibal Chau. I was told he was here.”

The man paused, his face unreadable. “Who wants to know.”

“I really can't say.”

The man approached again, but lightning-fast grabbed a knife from his belt and held it to Newton’s throat.

“Ack, okay! Stacker Pentecost sent me!”

Hannibal slowly lowered the blade. He didn’t say anything, but watched Newt suspiciously, as if waiting for something.

“Damn, okay, uh,” Newt exhaled, rubbing his throat. He could feel a slight raised line where the knife had been, “So I take it you're- you're Hannibal Chau, right?

“You like the name? I took it from my favorite historical character and my second-favorite Szechuan restaurant in Brooklyn. Now tell me what you want, before I tell these guys to start dissecting you.” Hannibal’s cronies looked more than happy to comply, so Newt wasted no time responding, no bullshit.

“I need a vampire heart. Completely intact. Which it looks like you can easily provide.” Newt gestured to the room.

The corner of the man's mouth twisted into a grin that made Newt shiver. Hannibal lifted his arm and made a single gesture, a small shooing motion with a couple of fingers, that made the everyone else in the room move towards the exit.

“I can, but what makes you think I would?”

“Well, uh, because you want the vampires stopped, obviously?” Hannibal just stared at him with that unsettling amusement. Damn, if his confidence wasn't the hottest thing. No, shit, he was here for business. “Look, we can make it worth your while. I'm sure the Marshal will compensate you–”

“Look around you, kid, do you think the Marshal's compensation means shit to me? If you want your vampire heart so bad – and it's clear you do, 'cause otherwise you wouldn't have bothered to come get it personally – you've gotta make it worth my while.”

Newt's mind refused to make the logical jump until Hannibal unclasped his belt buckle. His mind spun as his cheeks flushed and he objected, not so much because he was opposed to the idea itself, but the principle of it, or maybe just his instinct upon being surprised. “You can't be serious, this–”

“Then you can't be serious about wanting that heart, can ya now?”

“I'm serious about wanting it!” Newt glared up at Hannibal, taking a step closer. Despite his best attempts to look defiant, he felt like melting; Hannibal loomed over him, and god, that cocky bastard knew he couldn't say no, didn't he? Hannibal placed his hand in Newt's hair, starting to unzip his fly with the other hand. “Fine, we'll do it your way, but – Ow!”

Newt's scalp stung as Hannibal pulled his hair sharply.

“Glad you're so eager to use your mouth, but it's time to switch gears with how you're using it.”

“Okay, okay, loosen up?” Newt whined. Hannibal released him, but only to better reach into his pants and pull out his cock. Newt opened his mouth to ask how the hell Hannibal was already half-hard with how frigid it was in here, but he thought better of it.

The motions were ones Newt was well-familiar with. It'd been a couple of years since he'd put his mouth on anyone's genitals and he hadn't realized just how much he'd missed it until this moment. It didn't take very long to coax Hannibal to his full length.

Newt traced his tongue up and down Hannibal's shaft, but a hand back in his hair made him decide rather quickly that he shouldn't take his time. Opting for a less glamorous but more efficient method, Newt spat in his palm and gripped Hannibal's shaft while placing his mouth over the tip. In attempted but imperfect sync, Newt jerked Hannibal off while he sucked. When he tasted a salty bead of precum, Newt felt his own dick stir despite the bone-chilling cold.

While Newt's knees ached against the hard floor and he'd given up any hope of ever feeling warm and dry again, he was actually kind of enjoying himself. When Hannibal bucked his hips forward, hand twisting in Newt's hair, Newt's first response was elation, and then disappointment.

“Pleasure doing business with you,” Hannibal said. How the hell he regained full composure so quickly was a mystery to Newt, who was still suffering from a tent in his pants and a lot of mixed feelings.

“Yeah, whatever,” replied Newt. He tried to get his spirits up by remembering that he had a full intact vampire heart now; this was all he needed for a break-through. And the look on Hermann's face would be priceless! But those thoughts only partially covered the aching in Newt's chest. Misdirected lust, obviously; this wasn't the first time he'd gotten a crush from an ill-advised hook-up.

“No need to look so down about it.” Hannibal strode towards the door, clapping Newt on the shoulder as he strode past. “If you're hankering for more later, you know where to find me now.”


End file.
